Prom Dates
by Kiska King
Summary: A week before prom, and guess who doesn't have a prom date. But is Derek desperate enough to ask his step-sister to go to prom with him? Would she ever agree? Only if she didn't have a prom date... which she doesn't... Dasey of course
1. Saturday Afternoon: Derek

**A/N:** Okay, so I'm starting another story. Why? I'm insane. But this idea popped into my head a couple months ago. (Around prom, go figure, eh?) I wrote the first chapter down, and then forgot about it until now, and I have a bunch of welled up creativity. (I think it's my boyfriend and marathon reading that's doing it) And, viola! I have ideas galore, and I've got a new thing that I like to call time, so hopefully I can finish this over the summer!

**_Disclaimer:_**I do not own Disney, Disney Channel, or any of their shows, including, but not limited to "Life With Derek" and it's associated names and/or affiliated characters... But one day I shall rule the world! MUAHHAHAHA! (Why?! No one else is staking a claim... lol)

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Prom Dates  
A "Life with Derek" Fanfiction by Kiska King

"How?" I moaned to the ceiling. "How could _I_ not have a date a week before the _prom_?!" I could cry… except I don't cry. I've been told the world would implode if I cried. Casey was probably right when she said that, but that wasn't the point. The point was I, Derek, _the _Derek Venturi, Triple D, didn't have a date for prom. I'm not even sure how it happened. A month ago, I could care less about junior prom. It was a speck on my social calendar, and now… every girl in the school was taken. Well, not _every_ girl, but every girl who I was willing to be seen with, so, to me, every girl was taken. I moaned at my ceiling again and dragged my ass out of bed. At least it was Saturday, so I didn't have to face the humiliation of my lack of a date. I had until Monday to find a date… or to make up a fake illness. Glancing at the clock which said it was past one, I groped around for a clean(_ish)_ shirt and headed to the living room.

Downstairs I heard yelling. Loud, shrill yelling. Lizzie and Edwin were probably arguing over something. Then I heard crying. That meant they had interrupted Marty's Saturday morning cartoons. I plopped down in my chair and glared at both of them to stop fighting. They took it into a different room at least, which was good enough for me. Marty came to sit in my lap while I dozed off in my chair, my hand on the remote, but pretty soon the thudding of _her_ steps down the stairs reached my ears.

"Remote, Derek," Casey demanded. I did the mature thing and pretended she didn't exist. "C'mon, Derek, _please_." Please? _Please_? Now that just wasn't like Casey. I opened one eye and would have fallen out of my chair if Marty hadn't been sitting on me. Casey was in her pajamas, her hair was a mess, and well, she wasn't her usual annoying _perfect_ self.

"What _happened _to you?" I demanded, still holding the remote hostage.

"I don't want to talk about it," she told me, holding out her hand for the remote.

"Sorry, Marty's the boss, and she wants to watch cartoons, right Smarty?" I paused for Marty to say something cute and funny… still waiting… "Smarty?" I looked down, but not before seeing Casey's smirk. Smarty was dead asleep, cuddled up on me. While this was cute and all, it meant I couldn't fight Casey for the remote if it came to it. So, I put it down my pants so she couldn't get it. Hey, I _like _Spongebob!

"That's disgusting," Casey told me, sitting down and sighing.

"So, why aren't you perky and perfect at one in the afternoon on a Saturday?" I asked. Spongebob could wait. This should be interesting.

"Why do you care?" she asked. She probably said it with attitude, but I was so used to it, I couldn't tell.

"Because, it's just so _weird_."

"It's nothing."

"Yes, it is."

"Just drop it, Derek."

"Fine," I sighed. It was too early to deal with Casey, and I'd probably find out sooner or later. It's not like she can keep her mouth shut for long.

I heard Marty yawn and I looked down. She was just opening her eyes, and she smiled up at me and put her arms around my neck.

"Good morning Smerek," she said, kissing me on the cheek.

"Afternoon, Smarty," I yawned, ruffling her hair. She grinned and leapt off of me to go sit by Casey. I'm not sure how she did it, but Marty loves that girl. I say she's a witch and cast a spell on my little sister.

I got up and scratched all the places that itched, and walked into the kitchen. I realized that Edwin and Lizzie had stopped fighting, or had at least taken it outside, because it was quiet, and only Nora was in the kitchen. I was kind of hoping for Dad, but maybe Nora was better at this sort of thing. She was sitting at the counter reading a magazine and eating something healthy and disgusting.

"Good afternoon, Derek," she smiled as I stumbled into the kitchen.

"Hi, Nora," I replied, moving towards the cupboard for a bowl. "Where's Dad?"

"He had a meeting today. He'll be home for dinner," she said, flipping the page of her magazine. "Why? Is everything okay? You know you can tell me, right?"

"Uh… well…" I began. Yeah, I know, I'm a real genius with words, but it was kind of awkward for me to be telling Nora my problems, even if she was my step mom. "I kinda don't have a date for prom."

She laughed a little and I frowned. I knew it was a mistake to tell her. She quickly covered it up, though. "Sorry, it's just that, I figured you'd have the girls lining up to be your prom date."

I must have looked annoyed because she hurriedly continued. "Well, I _might_ have a solution," she said. "Nah. You wouldn't do it."

"What is it? I'll do it. I'm _desperate_ here," I told her, whispering so that no one else would here us.

"I could set you up with someone else who doesn't have a date," she continued. I grinned. This might actually work. "She's sweet, funny, smart, and very pretty. She even goes to your school." Better and better. Especially the pretty part.

"Who is it?"

"Well," Nora began, "it's Case."

I choked. I dropped the cereal bowl I was holding in my hand and it shattered on the floor. I laughed. I laughed so hard my sides hurt, and little tears came out of the corners of my eyes. I wasn't _that_ desperate… but this was a sweet way to torture Casey.

"Well, it was worth a shot," Nora said, picking up her magazine. "I mean, prom is an entire week away. It's possible you could find someone else before then. Maybe."

That woman has been hanging around my family too long. She's gone evil.

I sighed. Well, maybe I was that desperate.

I heard Nora take Marty upstairs to play and I grinned. Nora was a good woman. She was giving me the perfect opportunity to talk Casey into her plan. Like she said, it was worth a shot.

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Reviews are much loved!! Flames are NOT! But constructive criticism is muchly appreciated :D

KeK


	2. Saturday Afternoon: Casey

**A/N**: I know, two posts in two days?! But the only reason I'm posting this one up so soon is because I'm antsy... And this chapter may seem a bit repetitive, but it _should_ be the only one like that... I hope... I just thought it was important to hear this side of the story, too...

**_Disclaimer:_** My lawyers tell me the lawsuit is coming along nicely, and soon I will own all of Disney!! Which is practically the world, right?! Oh, no, wait... that's just the voices in my head telling me that... I should really quit listening to them! So, no, I don't own Disney, Life With Derek, or Spongebob... I forgot that in the last chapter... whoopsies!!

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"How, how, _how_?" I whispered to my wall, or myself, I'm not sure which. How did this happen to _me_? Everything was perfect! Max and I were going to be the perfect couple at prom. Emily and I had already picked out our prom dresses. And now, _now_. Ugh. Thank God mom was up late last night after my date, so I could tell her. And then I called Em, who was really nice about the whole thing. I hope she and Sheldon have a great time, I really do. I looked at the alarm clock: 1:23. Now how did that happen? I usually don't sleep past six! Well, it might help that that's when I went to bed. Thank God it's Saturday. I have the weekend to figure out this whole mess… Or find an all-girls' school in the area. One that _doesn't _have a prom.

I didn't even bother combing my hair. It just wasn't worth it today. I trudged, yes, _trudged_, down the steps to the living room, hoping to watch a good soap opera, or maybe a sappy romance. Ah, what futile dreams. Of course, on this horrible day, Derek _somehow_ managed to get up earlier than I did. I could see his messy mop over the back of his chair.

"Remote, Derek," I asked, rather rudely. I was too tired to fight though. I just didn't want to watch Spongebob if I didn't have to. "C'mon, Derek, _please_."

He turned and looked at me. The jerk gaped at me. Oh, how I hate him.

"What _happened _to you?" he demanded. Like I would tell him.

"I don't want to talk about it," I told him honestly, holding out my hand for the remote. I really didn't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever.

"Sorry, Marty's the boss, and she wants to watch cartoons, right Smarty?" he said. There was a pause. "Smarty?"

I smirked… I couldn't help it. Marty was sleeping on his lap. Maybe he isn't _all_ evil. Marty has a good instinct when it comes to people. Yeah, and maybe one day pigs will fly. It must just be because he's her older brother.

I looked over and saw him stick the remote down his pants.

"That's disgusting," I told him, sitting down with a sigh, thinking of all the gross germs that lived in his pants that were now all over our remote. Pass the disinfectant.

"So, why aren't you perky and perfect at one in the afternoon on a Saturday?" he asked, smirking at me in this irking holier than thou kind of way. I was tempted to slap him.

"Why do you care?" I asked, instead, putting as much malice in those for words as I could muster.

"Because, it's just so _weird_."

"It's nothing," I told him, wanting to forget about the entire ghastly ordeal.

"Yes, it is."

"Just drop it, Derek." I was too tired to deal with him.

"Fine," he sighed, rolling his eyes. He probably figured I'd tell him sooner or later. But not this time. I wasn't going to be the one to tell him. I just wanted one weekend of peace before this stupid bomb exploded and did irreparable damage to my rep.

Marty yawned. I looked over and saw Derek smile at her. She smiled back and kissed him on the cheek, telling him good morning.

"Afternoon, Smarty," he corrected her, yawning as he ruffled her hair. She grinned at him and jumped off Derek and came to sit next to me. I hugged her and kissed the top of her head as Derek walked over to the kitchen, scratching… _every_where. And our remote is still in there! I shuddered a little. But really, watching cartoons with Marty was fine with me. It's watching them with _Derek_ that bothers me. Anyways, I needed a good cuddle buddy at the moment.

"What's wrong, Casey," Marty asked, looking up at me. I guess she didn't hear my "I don't want to talk about it" argument with Derek.

"It's nothing, Marty. Let's just watch Spongebob," I told her, still hugging her.

"I've seen this one. And if nothing's wrong, why are you still in your pajamas?" she asked. She was pretty smart.

"Well, Max and I broke up last night," I told her. I figured it wasn't much use trying to hide it from her, and she wouldn't make fun of me. "Just don't tell Derek, okay?"

"Okay," she told me, kissing my cheek. "I love you, Casey."

"I love you too, Marty," I told her, hugging her tighter to me. She didn't seem to mind.

I heard a bowl crash in the kitchen, then Derek's laughter. His annoying, mocking, cruel laughter. My stomach dropped and I went icy cold. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

Mom came into the living room and took Marty upstairs to play. But I saw her face. I knew. She did. She told Derek I was dateless. Why would she _do_ that?

Ah, let the torture begin.

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I either want a review or cookies... and you can only give one over the internet... Cookies! Duh! tee hee.

KeK


	3. Saturday Afternoon: Both

**A/N:** Geez, I really hope this surge of creativity continues!! Here's the next chapter... I personally, love this chapter.

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine

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I knew the moment I saw Casey's face that she wouldn't agree to the plan. She looked to be stuck between the decision to kill me or start bawling, so her cheeks were getting these weird red patches and tears were forming in her eyesand she look _mad_.. I opened my mouth to explain but she cut me off.

"Don't even start, Derek," she told me icily. "I am _not_ in the mood to be made fun of."

"Who said I was going to make fun of you? Being dateless for the prom is a _huge_ deal. I wouldn't make fun of _that_." Okay, even I was having a hard time believing myself.

"What is your _problem_?" she asked, rhetorically, I'm assuming. Yes, I know the meaning of the word "rhetorical."

"Actually, my_ problem_," I answered her mockingly, "is that _I_ don't have a date _either_. Okay?" I didn't have to be _nice_ about it.

"_You_? _You_ don't have a date for prom?" she asked disbelievingly. "Did the entire female population of the school finally come to their senses and realize what a jerk you are?"

"Nope, I just waited too long," I informed her.

"Typical Derek."

"And now, typical Casey is going to help 'typical Derek' out," I told her.

"How do you figure?"

"You're going to be my date," I told her, waiting for her squeals of excitement. Even if she _is_ my stepsister, it's the natural reaction to being told you're going out on a date with Derek Venturi.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she said, rolling her eyes. Not exactly the typical response. "I'd rather go naked and stag."

For a brief moment I pictured that. I felt like vomiting, but if she did that the entire (straight) male population in the school, minus myself, of course, would be all over her. Not necessarily because she's gorgeous or has a hot bod, but simply because she's naked. Nora would blame me.

And Casey would probably score major rep points...

Nope, I simply couldn't let that happen. Besides, _Casey_ would never do something like that. Ever. I told her as much.

"If it made you mad, I might," she said.

"Somebody's got her panties in a twist. Must be over _Max_," I taunted her. Natural instinct, you understand.

"Shut up," she told me, her voice getting quiet. Maybe I hadn't made the smartest move. "Don't mention that name around me."

_Scary_! I don't like Casey when she's this angry. Annoyed, I _love_. It's my joy in life to annoy her. But when she gets angry, and I mean really angry, like she is now, I want to hide in the nearest bomb shelter. I couldn't let _her_ know that though.

"Why, feeling_ rejected_?" I asked, drawing out the word.

"I said, _shut up_," she told me again.

"Think about it this way, Case: What would make Max more jealous than letting me, Captain of the hockey team _and_ the most popular at school take you to the prom?" I asked her. "Guys will be begging to take you out afterwards."

She looked at me like I was insane and walked up to her room without another word. Hopefully, she was thinking my offer over because I _really_ needed a date.

* * *

As soon as I got to my room, I called Emily and told her what just happened.

"Creepy, much?" she replied.

"Yeah, totally," I told her. "It's kind of sick that my stepbrother just asked me out on a _date_."

"That's not the problem… Tony Rodriguez took _his_ sister Tina to the prom last year. They were adorable, actually. Apparently, his girlfriend dumped him a week and a half before the prom for Sam Kelley, who had just broken up with-"

"Em!" I cut her off. "That's a little different. They're twins."

"Well, yeah," she admitted. "But you and Derek aren't even blood-related. And you _know_ he's not going to make a move on you."

"True," I conceded. "But still, going to prom with _Derek_? It sounds like something out of _The Twilight Zone_."

"He _is_ the most popular guy in school," she told me, like I didn't already know.

"Still my stepbrother and _still_ Derek," I said.

"He is extremely hot," she practically drooled.

"Em! You have _Sheldon_. Remember, your _boyfriend_?" I asked.

"Oh, I know. And I couldn't be happier," she beamed. "But that doesn't make Derek any _less_ hot. Besides, I know that nothing is going to happen. I'm over that silly little crush, remember."

"Uh-huh. Sure," I said noncommittally. I think Emily will always have a crush on Derek.

"Maybe he's just that desperate. No offense."

"Thanks, Em," I said sarcastically.

"Hey, you know I didn't mean it that way. We both know that if you two weren't related, Derek would have been all over you the moment you set foot in the school. You're gorgeous."

"Aw, thanks Em," I told her. "I think I'm going to go barf now, though. Did you really have to put that image in my head?"

"All I'm saying is that this could be good for you. For us," she clarified.

"How's that?" I asked.

"If Derek takes you to prom, guys are going to notice you. You'll get more popular, and I can mooch off of you," she explained.

"You might have a point."

"I know I do. Now go and tell Derek that you accept!" she ordered.

"Fine. Call me later?"

"Of course. I want _all_ the juicy details! Bye!"

"Bye," I hung up.

Now to tell Derek. And give him my conditions. I began writing on a paper.

Fifteen minutes later, I went back downstairs.

"Okay, Derek, I accept," I told him. He nodded casually and smirked at me. "But I have a few conditions."

"You always do."

"First, you will not make fun of me for the next week," I began.

"Wait, what does that have to do with being my date?"

"You wouldn't make fun of a regular date, and I would never be with someone who makes fun of me," I told him. "Second, I want a corsage that matches my dress. Mom will help you find one if you need it." He nodded. "And a limo."

"What?"

"Emily and Sheldon are already renting one, and I'll help out. I'm just warning you that you'll have to help out, too."

"Whatever."

"Third, at the prom, you will be required to dance with me at least once." He looked at me like I was crazy. "I need people to see that I'm not dateless." His face resumed its normal mocking expression. "And fourth, you are not to leave with any girl except me."

"What? No," he told me, obviously shocked.

"Then the deal is off. You're not going to go to the dance and then ditch me. Got it?"

"I can find someone else," he said.

"No, you can't. All the girls that you're willing to be seen with are taken, remember?" I asked him. "And I'm sure I can find _someone_ willing to take me. You know what, Sam owes me a favor, and _he_'s not taking anyone yet. I can always call him up," I bluffed, reaching for the phone.

His hand slammed down on top of mine.

"Deal," he said through his teeth.

I smiled evilly up at him and motioned for him to sign the paper. Always get it in writing.

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I love it when Casey is being evil... And to dafuturesingingsensation, you rock my booty-shorts (socks are sooo passé)... Thanks for the offer of cookies!! (That's probably the reason I updated so quickly -winkwinkhinthint-) Review?

KeK


	4. Sunday Morning and Afternoon: Casey

**A/N:** When Casey is hyper, remember "Ivanwho" before the test, when she was really jumpy and wired!

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

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It's one in the afternoon on Sunday, and Marty is crying, I'm coming down from a caffeine high, Lizzie and Edwin are hiding in a closet, and Derek is screaming at me.

* * *

I stayed up all night, trying to finalize prom plans with Emily. Unfortunately, after I called her Friday night, she did the thing any good friend would do: She cancelled all my plans and reservations so I wouldn't have to think about it. This meant that I had to find out where we (Emily, Sheldon, Derek, Sam, Sam's date (Derek found out about my bluff and was _pissed_, but I got our deal in writing), Ralph, Ralph's date, and I) were going to have dinner, make reservations, make an appointment to have my hair, nails, and toenails done, and compare notes with Sheldon about corsages, and have him e-mail our decision to Derek. I crawled into bed at around three and couldn't sleep. I couldn't quit thinking about Max.

_How could such a sweet, caring, thoughtful guy_… I couldn't even finish the thought. My brain was exhausted. The sun was peeking in my window when I was finally relaxed enough to fall asleep and not wake up until noon.

I think my eyes had been closed two and a half seconds when Marty burst into my room at full speed in her pajamas, and jumped onto my bed.

"Casey, Casey, Casey!" she yelled at me. So much for sleeping until noon.

"What's the matter, Marty?" I asked. I think it came out "Smatter, Mart… -snore-"

"Casey! Wake up! You're baby-sitting!" she yelled, still bouncing on my bed.

"What? Why? Can't Derek?" I asked George, who came in, chasing Marty.

"Sorry, Casey, your mom had a meeting, and a client just called me. It's kind of an emergency. I'd ask Derek, but you remember what happened _last_ time," he told me, pulling a pathetic face.

"Okay, do I have time to get dressed?" I asked, rubbing my burning eyes.

"I have to leave in, like, five minutes," he told me, "is that enough?"

"Sure," I yawned.

"I'm really sorry Casey. You'll get double your usual pay."

"Aww, thanks George," I told him.

I got dressed in three minutes, skipping make-up and put my unbrushed hair in a ponytail.

"Breakfast?" I asked Marty as I walked into the kitchen, where she was already seated at the counter.

"Yes ma'am! I'd like French Toast and scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes and sausage!"

"Hmmm," I trailed off, looking in the refrigerator and pulling out an empty egg carton. "How about cereal?'

"What about my French Toast?" she asked, pouting. I quickly prayed she wouldn't start crying.

"How about Cinnamon Toast Crunch?" I asked, pulling a box out of the cupboard.

"But… But…" she started, already sniffling.

"I promise I'll make you French Toast next weekend, okay Marty?"

"Okay!" she agreed, clapping and bouncing up and down in her seat.

As I poured the bowl of cinnamon, sugar, artificial coloring, preservatives, and God knows what else, George rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of Marty's cereal.

"Hey!" she shouted at her father. "That's mine!"

"Sorry, Munchkin," he told her, patting her head. "Have you seen my…?" he asked, gesturing to his tie-less neck. I pointed to his hand. "Ah! Thank you," he told me, tying it around his neck. "You okay? You look exhausted."

Right, because that's what _every_ girl wants to here when she's just been dumped. Which everyone in Canada knew, since Derek found out and announced it at dinner... and e-mailed everyone. I think it was payback for me bluffing about asking Sam to take me to prom.

"I'm fine," I told him, handing him car keys, which he was searching his pockets for. "I just stayed up last night making prom plans."

"I'm sorry again, but it really was an emergency," he told me again, hugging me with one arm as he walked out of the kitchen. "Marty, behave for Casey!" he shouted, walking out the door. I winced as he screeched out of the driveway.

"Casey?" Marty asked around her mouthful of cereal.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scolded her, laying my head on the nice, cool counter.

She swallowed before continuing. "Are you gonna be a princess for prom?"

"I guess," I told her, not knowing what to say.

"Then can I be your fairy godmother?" she asked.

"You mean you don't want to be a princess too?"

"No," she told me, "I was a princess last week, remember?" Right, it's Sunday. It's a new week, so Marty is going to be something now.

"So you want to be a fairy godmother this week?"

"Not just _a_ fairy godmother!" she told me. "_Your_ fairy godmother!"

"Okay," I told her, "you can be my fairy godmother."

"Yay!" she yelled, bouncing up and down.

All her yelling and bouncing was giving me a major headache. I felt bad for her, knowing that my sleepiness would bum her out. Tiredness is infectious, I think. And, taking care of one small child and two tweens meant I needed to be in tip-top shape. I needed to be alert! I needed to be focused! I needed about three cups of coffee!

I rummaged around in the cupboard where mom keeps the coffee cups and pulled out George's novelty cup. He never uses it because he doesn't think anyone can drink that much coffee. It holds half a pot of coffee. Mom got it for him as a gag gift, calling him a caffeine junkie. I put half a cup of sugar and half a cup of chocolate syrup into the cup, covered them both with half and half, and waited for my pot of coffee to finish brewing. When the machine beeped, I poured my cup to the brim, and stirred it, barely noticing the coffee that spilled onto the counter. It smelled like heaven.

I took a sip. And another. And another. Before I knew it, my cup was empty. My headache was gone, and I really had to pee. I poured Marty another bowl of cereal and bolted to the bathroom, sighing in relief. Marty's bowl was halfway empty when I got back, and she was in the living room, obviously finished. For once, I didn't really care. Marty was picking up the remote when I burst into the room.

"Hey, hey Marty!" I smiled. "Wanna play dress up?" I asked her.

"Yes!" she shouted, jumping up and down on the couch! "Can I do your make-up?"

"Of course! You're my fairy godmother!" I told her. "But first, we have to dress you up to look the part!"

"Okay," she said, grabbing my hand and running up the stairs.

* * *

I dressed her up in a pink princess dress and fairy wings. I had used some of my glitter eyeshadow on her eyes and a touch of mascara on her already long eyelashes. We skipped the blush, because she didn't like the way it made her face look. I grabbed a few of Lizzie's butterfly clips, swearing on my favorite books that I would give them back in the same condition as when I borrowed them, and put them in Marty's hair. I had just finished the little fairy when Lizzie came in, checking on her hairclips.

"Hey, Lizzie!" I exclaimed. "Do _you_ want to play dress up?"

"Uh," she started, backing out of my room. Like "uh" counts as a word!

"Okay!" I grabbed her hand and sat her down in my chair.

* * *

"Hairspray!" I told Marty, my fairy godmother/assistant/soda fetcher.

"Hairspray!" she said, handing me some a bottle. I sprayed the end of a little braid in Lizzie's hair.

"Purple eyeshadow!"

"Which one?" Marty asked.

"That one!" I pointed to a shade of light purple that I loved to use, and I knew would look fantastic on my little sister.

"That one," Marty handed it to me.

"Mascara!"

"Mascara."

"Blush!"

"Blush."

"Uh, Casey?" Lizzie asked tentatively.

"Yes, Lizzie? Close your eyes, please!"

"I'm hanging out with Jaime later…" she trailed off.

"Okay," I said, understanding her sister speak for "make me look great, but don't over-do it!" "You'll look gorgeous!"

"Okay…"

I grabbed my curling iron and attacked Lizzie's hair.

"Ow!" she shouted.

"Hold still!"

"Casey! I don't want a makeover!"

"Sure you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"I'm almost done, anyway!"

"Casey!" she shouted at me.

"There," I told her, "all finished!"

"Casey… I look…" she trailed off.

"Great? I know!" I stepped back and admired my handiwork. Her hair was curled, with a few little braids on either side of her face, framing it. The purple eyeshadow made her eyes pop, and the mascara gave her eyelashes length and volume. Her lips looked like pink icing. "You should wear blue or purple," I told her, sitting down in my chair and letting Marty brush my hair.

"Thanks," she told me, leaving the room.

* * *

An hour later, I was a perfect princess. I had on a blue spaghetti strap dress, pink eyeshadow, glitter for blush, my hair was in a billion braids, and purple lipstick. I smiled at Marty and kissed her on the cheek, leaving a purple lip mark.

"I'm going to go show Derek!" she announced, running out of my room and down the stairs. I followed her and found Derek, Edwin and Lizzie (who was still dressed up, and wearing a purple t-shirt and blue jeans) watching baseball game on the tv.

"Hiya, Smerek!" Mart greeted Derek, jumping into his lap.

"Marty, what happened to you? You look… like a _princess_." From the way he said it, princess was not a good thing.

"No!" she yelled. "I'm a fairy godmother!" She was already pouting.

"Did Casey do this?" he asked.

"Yes, I did," I told him, holding my head up high.

He turned around and burst out laughing. "Wow, Casey, get dressed in the dark?"

"Hey!" Marty yelled. "I did that!" She ran up the stairs and I heard crying.

"Great job, Derek!" I yelled at him, feeling the caffeine and sugar start to wear off.

"I'm not the one who dressed Marty up like a freaking clone!" he yelled back. Lizzie and Edwin left the room.

"She's a fairy godmother!" I yelled back. It's one in the afternoon on Sunday, and Marty is crying, I'm coming down from a caffeine high, Lizzie and Edwin are hiding in a closet, and Derek is screaming at me. Not the way I wanted to spend my Sunday.

"She looks like a little _princess_!"

"I'm a fairy godmother!" Marty yelled from the top of the stairs. "See, fairies _fly_!"

I watched in slow motion as Marty jumped off the stairs and flew through the air. Derek and I both dove to save her, but both of us landed short. Marty hit the ground with both arms struck straight out to break her fall. My stomach turned as I heard a sickening crack. We all sat there for a moment, Marty lying on the floor, Derek and me lying side by side on the floor. The doorbell rang.

"That's Jaime!" I heard Lizzie yell, breaking the silence. Marty started wailing.

"What happened?" Edwin yelled as he and Lizzie came running and stopped when they saw Marty on the floor.

"Marty!" Derek yelled. "Are you okay?"

"Marty, sweetie, where does it hurt?" I asked.

She held up her right arm and I gasped when I saw her hand was an inch below her wrist, but thank God, not bleeding. The wrist was obviously broken, but the bones hadn't broken the skin.

"Derek, we need to get her to the hospital."

"I know."

* * *

I know, I know, I'm evil... I broke the munchkin... But that's what came out. Review?? - 2,000 words!! That's a first for me!


	5. Sunday Afternoon and Evening: Derek

I have no idea how she did it. I wouldn't admit to this under Chinese Water Torture, but my step-sister knows how to handle herself in a crisis. I ran upstairs to get my keys, and when I ran back down the steps, Casey was on the phone with Nora, telling her what had happened, Jaime had been sent home, Lizzie and Edwin were at the Davis' and Marty was holding an ice pack on her wrist.

"Derek, would you grab that hot pack?" Casey whispered as Nora freaked out on the other end of the line. "Don't worry, Mom, I know what to do in an emergency situation… Yes, I called the doctor… He says to alternate hot and cold on the break and get her to the ER… Yes, Mom, we'll be fine… No, Mom, don't leave your meeting… We'll be fine… Just call George, okay? … Thank you. We have to go now… Love you, too, Mom." She hung up the phone. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Marty sniffled from the couch.

"Yes," I answered, moving to Marty so I could pick her up.

"Smerek! I can _walk_! It's my _wrist_, not my legs!" she told me.

"It's okay, Marty, I can carry you," I told her, resisting the temptation to squeeze her closer to me.

I handed Casey the keys so she could unlock the door.

"You want me to drive?" she asked, politely. I thought about it for a split second. No way was I letting go of Marty until she was in a hospital room.

"Yeah, thanks," I told her. For once, I was glad that Casey was driving. She's a much safer driver than I am, and right then, the only thing I cared about was Marty's safety. She did seem to be driving a little on the fast side, though.

"How's your wrist feel?" I asked Marty.

"It's okay," she told me. "It really hurts though."

"You need to put the hot pack on it," Casey told her. "Will you put the ice pack on it in 5 minutes?" Casey asked me.

"Five minutes," I nodded.

Fifteen minutes and three switches later, we were at the ER. Luckily, it wasn't very crowded this Sunday afternoon. A nurse with a really bad dye-job handed Casey some paperwork to fill out. She had it done in ten minutes.

"Come with me, please," the nurse asked us.

"Why is your hair so red?" Marty asked the nurse from my arms. "Did you put kool-aid in it? I did that once, and my hair turned green. It was so cool!"

The nurse just laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

"It looks good. You're very pretty," Marty told her. The nurse smiled.

"Thank you, honey." She led us to a room than smelled like a lot of disinfectant and vomit. "A doctor will be right with you," she told us, still smiling at Marty.

"Marty, you can't ask people questions like that," Casey told her.

"Why not?"

"They might get offended," she tried to explain.

"Why? It _does_ look really pretty. _I_ want red hair," Marty told her.

Casey didn't have time to explain further because the doctor came in. I think Casey may have drooled a little on his shoes.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Reynolds, and you must be…" he trailed off, checking Marty's chart, "Marty!"

"And are you her parents?" he asked, smiling obliviously.

"Huh?" I asked.

"What?!" Casey kind of _yelled_. I think my eardrums may have exploded. "I'm only 16!"

"Oh!" the doctor blushed. "I'm sorry!" he tried to apologize. "I thought you were Abby Venturi?"

"No," Casey explained, "I'm Casey MacDonald, Marty's step-sister, and this is Derek Venturi, her brother."

"Oh, I see. Well, Miss MacDonald, I'm very sorry for the confusion. I must have read the chart too fast, and you seem very mature for a sixteen year old," he told her, looking her up and down, lingering slightly at the sight of her breasts. Call me crazy, but I didn't want this pervert treating my little sister. "Marty, are you ready to be x-rayed?" he asked.

"I guess," Marty told him, looking a little wary of him. I think Marty knew this guy wasn't good news, too.

"Okay then!" he said happily, "Let's get this road on the show!" Road on the show? _Road on the show_?! Could this guy _get_ any lamer. And if he thought for one instant that my Smarty was leaving the protection of her big brother's arms while she was getting x-rayed, he had another thing coming to him.

Preferably a solid right hook.


	6. Sunday Evening and Night: Casey

As Dr. Reynolds walked us to the room where the x-ray and technician were waiting, I was glad I had time to get out of my "princess" outfit. Not that I would ever go out with a guy who's, like, 8 years older than me, but he _was _incredibly cute. And cheesy in a way I _knew_ Derek hated. And when he smiled… It was like talking with a movie star. You'd always fantasize about dating one, but never actually would.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Miss Macdonald," he told me, flashing me another one of those perfect smiles. I heard Derek snort. "Especially for thinking you were with your brother, _romantically_."

I laughed at the notion of me and Derek as a couple. "Step-brother," I corrected automatically. "It's okay, Doctor. I'm actually not with anyone _romantically_, at the moment," I joked back. I'm glad Marty's doctor has a sense of humor.

"Really? A pretty, smart young woman like yourself?" he asked, pretending to be astounded. "I'd imagine boys would be swarming to go out with you. Or maybe your looking for a _man_?" he winked. Derek literally choked behind us.

Then it hit me. He wasn't _funny_. He wasn't cheesy. This guy was _hitting_ on me.

"Look, sir," I told him, assertively, "I think you must have the wrong idea, because I am only interested in _boys_ my own age!"

"Maybe that just means you haven't experienced a _man_."

"Marty, wait here," Derek calmly told her. Too calmly. Which meant bad things were going to happen. "You heard my sister, _sir_," he told the doctor through clenched teeth. "She's interested in boys her _own age_. Not sick perverts like you, looking for jail-bait." Derek finished with a yell. People were stopping and staring at us. I just wanted to slink away and hide.

"I think she knows what she wants, dude," Dr. Reynolds retorted, "and I don't think it's a dumb, little, weak _boy_ like you!" he finished, grabbing my ass.

Derek laughed for about a half a second, then his fist flew, catching Reynolds on the left side of the jaw. There was a satisfying cracking sound as the blow landed. His left fist followed, socking the doctor in the nose.

The doctor went down, blood gushing from his nose and his mouth.

"What the hell is going on here?" a nurse yelled at us.

"I want this man fired for sexually harassing a minor, ma'am," Derek told her. "He made obvious sexual references verbally to my step-sister, which I and my younger sister can attest to, and physically harassed her by touching her person in a private area, which these people witnessed." He gestured to people staring at us. "If he is not fired immediately, my family will be taking action both against him and this hospital."

I was impressed. I guess Derek did listen to George every once in while. Or he had picked up some law jargon from watching too much T.V.

"Now, if you'll excuse us," he told the nurse, wrapping his arm protectively around my shoulder and picking up Marty, "we would like to be escorted to the x-ray. My little sister has a broken arm. And we will be expecting notification of his termination forthwith."

My jaw literally dropped. I couldn't speak all through Marty's x-ray or until we got back to our hospital room with the new doctor, who was very kind and about 50 years old.

"How the hell do you know what "forthwith" means?" I asked.

"'Cause Smerek is a smarty, right Smerek?" Marty informed me.

"Right Smarty," Derek grinned. "I'm actually not such an idiot, Case. I just don't want to be all… preppy, like you."

"Gee, thanks, Derek," I snapped back. I realized I was tired and cranky and taking it out on Derek who, for once, didn't deserve my abuse. He actually deserved thanks. I sighed. "No, really, thank you," I tried again, this time nicely.

"We're family, Case. We don't let scumbags hit on each other. So, now, if a scumbag doctor hits on _me_ like that, you have to break _his_ jaw and_ his_ nose," he joked. I laughed at him.

"If you ask me," our doctor spoke for the first time since we got back to room, "you did this hospital a huge service. That guy was all over every girl under the age of 20 who walked into this hospital. Let's just say you're not the first complaint, but you will be the last." We had gotten notice that the doctor had been fired by the time we got back to the room.

Derek shrugged. "I'm the son of a lawyer who knows how to get things done."

The doctor smiled, but it went away quickly as he got the x-rays for Marty's arm and went back to work. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, son, but your little sister is going to have to have surgery for this arm to heal right. It's not invasive, but we're going to have to anesthetize her because she's too young to have it set while she's conscious. She won't be in any pain, and she'll wake up with her arm set and a new cast on."

"That's okay, doctor," I told him. "We just want Marty's arm to heal right."

"It will. It's a very-low risk surgery. The only thing that can go wrong is a bad reaction to the anesthesia. We have her scheduled for surgery next Tuesday. Until then, she'll have to wear this sling. And we'll ask her not to eat or drink at all the day of her surgery to reduce the risk of vomiting from the anesthesia. For now, if she experiences any pain, have her take ibuprofen with food or milk. She'll be just fine."

"Thank you, doctor," Derek said, holding out his hand. They shook hands.

I turned around to tell Marty we were going to go home now, but she was asleep on the hospital bed.

"That's a normal reaction. She's had a long day," the doctor told us as he left the room.

"Will you drive home?" I asked Derek as the nurse came in to finalize the paperwork. My eyelids were drooping already. The chair I was sitting in seemed unusually comfortable.

"Sure, Case," he told me. "Sleep good."

"Well," I muttered as I went under.

Some time later, I almost woke up when I felt someone pick me up. I was too tired to actually regain consciousness, though. So I buried my face into the person's chest and sighed as I went back to sleep. Whoever was carrying me smelled amazing and was warm and had strong arms wrapped around me. I liked the feeling. It felt safe.

After about a millisecond, I felt my soft, warm, inviting bed. Then something soft and warm brushed my lips.

"Goodnight, Casey," someone told me.

"Night…"


	7. Monday Morning: Derek

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Life with Derek.

* * *

_Stupid. _

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," I couldn't stop saying it. Like it was a stupid mantra or something. She was gonna kill me, or tell Dad or Nora, then I would be arrested for incest.

_It's not incest if you're only step-siblings_, a rational corner of my mind reminded me in my panic.

It was just a kiss. That means nothing, right? Families kiss. I've seen it all the time. Fathers kiss their daughters. Sons kiss their mothers. Sisters kiss each other. Brothers can carry their step-sisters to bed, lay them gently on the bed and kiss them on the lips.

I groaned. I shouldn't have kissed her. I don't kiss my siblings on the lips. I've never kissed Dad or Mom or Nora or Marti or Lizzie. Just Casey. Just those soft, sweet lips.

_Of my step-sister._

My mind was at was at war with itself. On the one hand, part of me was excited by the kiss I had given Casey, even though she wasn't awake when it had happened. She had just mumbled and rolled over. Excited to feel her luscious lips against mine. To allow myself a taste of something I had wanted for a long time, but had always been scared to admit. To let my mind explore the possibility of having something more with her.

But a much bigger part of me was terrified, and angry with myself and with her. For being her. For looking the way she did when she was angry, like with that doctor, or when she was sleeping and I knew she wouldn't protest to a kiss. For being irresistible. For being so damned Casey-ish.

_Maybe she won't remember._ The thought angered me and relieved me at the same time. I was scared that she would hate me, find me grotesque if she remembered, but maybe she would like it, maybe we…

I couldn't pursue that line of thought. If she didn't, it would be too hurt to much to let me get my hopes up. I rolled over for the billionth time that night and glanced at my desk.

5:54

The green numbers of my alarm clock glared at me. I might as well get up. I wouldn't be getting any sleep, after all.

I threw on a shirt and stumbled downstairs in my boxers, not bothering to find a pair of pants. I slumped into a chair with a bowl of cereal and wondered how long it would take someone to get up and make coffee. I hate the stuff, but I needed some after my sleepless night.

A cool hand brushed my forehead. A shiver ran through me. Luckily, she mistook this as a sign of sickness.

"Are you feeling okay, Derek?" Casey asked me, concern wrinkling her forehead.

"I feel better than you look, so I'm not feeling hideous," I told her. I couldn't help it. After so much bickering, it was easiest to taunt her and not let her see what was going inside my head. Her expression changed to one of annoyance. She didn't remember the kiss.

_Thank God. Damn it._

"God, remind me not to show concern again," she glared at me. "It is far too early for your ingraciousness." She reached up into the cupboard and took out the bag of coffee beans.

"It's not too early for me to know that 'ingraciousness' isn't a word," I retorted.

"Look who learned to pick up a dictionary! Did you hurt yourself? Sprain your brain?" She smiled as she turned to grind the beans. I'm fairly sure she was picturing my face on each and every bean that was being pulverized. She positively wriggled with satisfaction as she ground them.

Which, unfortunately drew to my eyes to a perfect bit of Casey's anatomy between her hips and thighs.

_DON'T LOOK! DON'T LOOK! DON'T LOOK! _

I looked. It was round and glorious and if she reached up any further, a creamy expanse of skin would be exposed beneath the hem of the ridiculously short pajama bottoms she was wearing. She reached into the cupboard to get the coffee filters.

I broke. I shoved my cereal and ran out of the kitchen as fast as I could, an involuntary groan escaping my lips. I locked the bathroom door behind me and slammed the toilet seat lid down before I sat, desperately thinking of hockey statistics, trying to calm down.

"Derek," Casey called through the door, "are you okay?"

I groaned again, all thoughts of hockey gone.

_Why didn't I put pants on this morning? I will wear pants from now until I die, I swear to God, to Allah, to Jesus and whoever else is listening._

"You don't sound very good," she told me.

"," I muttered.

"Did you catch something at the hospital? Do I need to wake Mom up?"

That would be bad. That would be very bad. I would not be able to explain the very noticeable bulge in my boxers if anyone saw.

"Uh…" I racked my mind for something smart to say "No!"

_Oh, yeah, real clever, I told myself. I searched the bathroom for something to cover myself with. Towel! No, wait, why would I be wearing a towel over my boxers? Shower curtain? Bath mat? But then, I saw them,, my saving grace._

_PANTS!_

_They were hiding beneath a pile of towels. I must have tossed them before taking a shower._

_They smelled like wet, mildew covered towel, but they looked like heaven right now._

_I pulled them on and stuck one hand in a pocket before I pulled open the door._

"_I said I'm fine, Casey. Quit sticking your nose in my business." I gave her my most intimidating glare. Not a easy feat when not enough blood is going to your head._

"_Just don't pass it on, okay? And get better before Saturday. You still have a contract to uphold, remember?" She started to walk away, but turned around._

"_And take a cold shower. That's disgusting." She pointed to my crotch. I look down and saw that I had left my fly undone. "No one needs to see your morning wood." She went back downstairs to the kitchen._

"_Well, fuck," I said out loud, shutting the door and starting up the shower and turning it to the coldest setting. This is going to be an awkward week._


	8. Monday Morning: Casey

After my awkward encounter with Derek this morning, I split up with him even earlier than usual. Instead of walking with him to the doors of the school, but I decided that I wanted to catch the bus more than I wanted to ride in the car after seeing my step-brother's privates

"Hey, Em!" I called out when I got near her locker, where Em was probably waiting for Sheldon.

"Wow, Derek's actually on time?" She asked, laughing a little. "Should I be on the look out for other signs of the apocalypse?"

"Nah, I caught the bus. It would have been much too awkward to ride in the car with him today."

"Why?" she asked, leaning in. "What happened?" I smiled at her obvious excitement at what she hoped was a juicy story.

"Nothing, he just forgot to zip up his pants this morning and left himself a little exposed."

She gasped. "Really? How big was-"

"Emily!" I shouted. "I didn't _look_! I just glanced down and it was, you know, _there_."

"Yeah, but you can tell a lot from a glance…"

"Emily Davis, you are causing potentially permanent scarring to your best friend's psyche!" I told her, pulling a traumatized face.

"Oh, fine, I'll drop it!" she said, pouting a little. "How's Marty?"

"Mad, 'cause Mom and George won't let her go to school today and she wants to show everyone her wrist," I told her as she grabbed notebooks out of her locker. "I wish they would have let me stay home." I sighed and leaned against the lockers. "I'd be willing to break my wrist to get out of today."

"But you wouldn't be able to wear that gorgeous bracelet with a cast!" Emily reminded me. "And _you_ don't want to show up to prom in a cast anyways. Sandra Beckett did that _last_ year and people would totally think that you were copying her, 'cause you know she dated Max before-" she cut off, seeing the look on my face. "How are you?" she asked.

"I cried a lot on Friday, but with the whole Derek-date thing on Saturday and Marti on Sunday, I didn't think about it a whole lot this weekend," I told her, ignoring the stabbing pain in my stomach.

"I'm so sorry, Casey," she told me, pulling me into a hug.

"Me, too," I told her, sniffing. I refused to cry again over him. After a few moments, I pulled away.

"If it's any consolation, you look fantastic today," she smiled at me.

I laughed. "Thanks, Em." I figured today might actually be okay. I could get through it.

Sheldon walked up and I smiled as he wrapped his arms around Emily from behind and kissed her on the cheek.

"Hiya, Case!" he smiled at me. "I just ran into Max. He said he was looking for you, but I told him I hadn't seen you yet this morning. I was really sorry to hear about the two of you." He frowned sympathetically at me.

I stood up straight and glanced at Emily in shock, but she shook her head slightly, indicating that she hadn't told him the messy details of the break-up, after all.

"Yeah, me too," a voice that could have come from deep within my personal hell came from behind me. I turned on the spot, stunned. I expected this to happen today, but I had still been dreading it.

"Really, because I seem to remember you breaking up with _me_, Max," I said, glaring at him, willing him to burst into flames.

He smiled at me, totally unfazed.

"Listen, Case, I just wanted to know if you-"

"No, Max, I don't want to get back together with you," I sniffed.

He chuckled. "No, I was wondering if you brought my letterman jacket with you today. I just wanted it back."

"That's it?" I may have screeched, but I was too distraught to notice my exact pitch. I may have just squawked or shouted it. "You don't want apologize to what you said to me, or, or, anything?"

"Look, Casey, I said what I felt. I'd appreciate it if you didn't over dramatize it and spread it around the entire school or anything," he said, glancing at Emily. "I know that you can be a little over dramatic sometimes, and I do have a reputation to protect."

I stared at him, stunned.

"Over-dramatize?" I managed to squeak out. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I remembered what he had told me Friday night. What had happened. "How could I possibly over-dramatize that?"

"Well," he smiled and tried to stroke my arm, which I pulled back as though he had tried to stab it, "you tend to over-dramatize a lot of stuff."

I felt the first of many tears streak down my face. I ran away as fast as I could, Emily calling after me, slamming into the girl's bathroom and into the first empty stall I could see as the bell rang. I didn't really care though. I couldn't face going to class right now.

I sobbed so hard that my entire body shook, moaning a little. I could feel the pain of the things he had said to me running through my body like shards of broken glass. Pain shot through my stomach and I thought I was going to throw up I was crying so hard. The graffitied walls of the bathroom stall seemed to spin. Everything was closing in on me. I curled into a fetal position.

_How could someone I love so much say those things to me? Why is he doing this to me? Do I really deserve this? He loves me, too! How could he say that I was a-_

"Casey?" a soft voice broke through my thoughts from outside the stall. I tried to quit crying and made a sound somewhere between a choke and a hiccup.

"No," I said, staring at the shoes that had appeared underneath the door of the stall.

"C'mon, Case, I know you're in there."

"No, I'm not," I told that stupid, annoying voice.

"You're late for class."

"So, I'm always late when you're driving," I glared at the place in the door where his head would be.

"Just come on out, Casey."

"I'm not in here, remember?"

"I'm pretty sure you are."

"Prove it."

"Fine." Derek crouched down and crawled underneath the door of the stall. "See, I told you you're in here."

"Where's Emily?" I asked, wondering if my best friend had abandoned me, too.

"Last I saw, she was being led away by the principle, screaming obscenities at a guy who is apparently 'the foulest, slimiest manipulative fucker that ever crawled out from underneath a rock.'"

I smiled a little, even though tears were still running down my face.

"Why'd you come in here?"

"Sheldon said you had run off after talking to Max, and I figured you either ran into Paul's office or here, and here's closer, and when I came in and I heard you sobbing like a little girl," he told me.

"You jerk!" I shouted at him, letting out some misplaced fury. It briefly occurred to me that I may have been overreacting. "You don't tell someone who's been crying that they cry like a little girl! You insensitive toad!"

"Well, I'm not gonna lie, Casey," he told me, grinning at me, "you weren't exactly weeping like some elegant movie star. It sounded pretty gross. And wet."

I was so mad I quit crying. "You cad."

He smiled at me. "I must not be all bad. I got you to quit crying."

"There are nicer ways to get someone to quit crying, Derek!" I yelled. "You could try comforting me, or hugging me or-" I cut off as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into a hug, squeezing me so hard I couldn't breathe, effectively silencing me.

"You would have had me committed," he told me, squeezing me even tighter before letting me go,

I sucked in as much air as my lungs could hold and stared daggers at him.

"If I have a cracked rib, you are paying for it!" I informed him.

"Universal healthcare," he winked at me.

"Whatever."

There was a long pause as I glared at him and he smiled insolently at me. Finally, I sighed and quit glaring at him.

"Can we just get out of here?" I asked him.

He looked stunned. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

"You and me?" he asked stupidly.

"I know, it's shocking, but I can't take school today. I just want to," even I couldn't believe the words that were about to come out of my mouth, "ditch school."

Derek's face cleared and he grinned at me again.

"I do believe I am a bad influence on you," he told me, sliding back the lock on the door. "Yeah, Case, let's get out of here." He gestured me to go out the door before him.

As I was passing him, I turned on a sudden whim and hugged him tight, as he has hugged me and after making sure no one was watching, kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks a lot, Derek," I told him. He looked dazed for a minute. He shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ears.

"No problem, Case."

As I turned to leave the stall, I could have sworn he was touching the place where I had kissed him.

_Really, he has to wipe it off while I'm standing right here? Jerk._


	9. Moday Midmorning: Derek

**A/N:** I am really, truly sorry for how long it has taken me to update this, but I am going to try and power it out in the next couple of days.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

* * *

I knew that Casey was in a lot of pain, but it was still really hard to keep from bouncing up and down in my seat while I was driving. She kissed me. She _willingly_ kissed me. Granted, it was on the cheek, but she showed me honest to God affection. I was kind of in love with this day. Until I looked over at the passenger side and saw Casey leaning her head against the window, her eyes wet and red and puffy, like she might start crying again at any second. I reached over and squeezed her hand, but let go quickly. She must have been too distraught to care.

"So, how about this weather we're having, huh?" I asked, trying to distract her. "Sure is warm for this time of year, dontcha think?" I got nothing.

I sighed and continued driving, trying to think of where I could go that we couldn't get caught. I would've just driven home, but Nora was taking care of Marty and I didn't think Casey wanted to deal with them, right now. I pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store across the street from a park.

"I'll be right back," I told her.

Inside, I began desperately searching for comfort food. I thought about getting ice-cream, but somehow, cold just didn't seem right at this moment. Casey had been shivering on the drive over. I tried to think of something that would be good, something perfect.

'_Popcorn? No, you idiot, how would you pop it? Muffins? Yeah, because everyone loves healthy food when they're depressed. Cookies? YES.'_

I hurried to the bakery section and bought two dozen chocolate-chip cookies. On the way to the check-out, I realized that we would need milk, so I went to the dairy section and grabbed a half-gallon of skim milk, because it's the only kind Casey drinks.

When I got back to the car, Casey was wiping her eyes, like she had been crying, but didn't want me to see.

"C'mon, Case, let's go sit down." I motioned to the park.

She nodded and followed after me. "What's in the bag?" she asked.

"Surprise."

"Oh, come on, Derek, just tell me!"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Butthead."

"You wound me with your harsh words, MacDonald."

"Oh, go jump up your own ass, Venturi." I whipped around, amazed at her foul, for Casey, language.

"Don't look so amazed. I do go to a public high school," she reminded me.

"I know, but you're _Casey_," I reasoned.

"Don't assume you know so much about me, Derek," she warned me, getting angry. "You just assume that I'm some over-dramatic, preppy princess, who's stuck up and a prude and never wants to do anything _fun_."

"Casey," I said slowly, afraid that she might jump down my throat again if I didn't say the right thing. "I know you're dramatic, but it's only over anything that is really important to you. And you know how to stay calm in a situation that calls for it. Yesterday, I was in full-on panic mode, and you just stepped in and took care of everything and made sure Marty was okay. You are preppy, but that's just because grades are important to you. I know you want to go on to do big things, and you realize more than most people our age that high school is more important than who's dating, and who wore the wrong shoes. You are a princess, but it's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just you. You like to have things your way because you think that they're better. And I will never, _never_ repeat this to anyone, no matter what form of torture they use, but your way usually does work out, just fine. And as for being a stuck-up prude, I've seen you dance around the house with Marty without a care in the world, and I've, unfortunately, seen you in the hall with Max's tongue down your throat. You know how to have fun, you just know when it's time for it and when it's not."

During my long and rambling speech, Casey's jaw dropped further and further. I kindly bumped it back into place with my fist and turned around to walk to a bench.

I plopped down and Casey sat next to me.

"Are you going to talk again anytime soon? Because this silence on your part is really nice, but I need to mentally prepare myself for the sound of your voice if you're going to talk again. Otherwise, I'll get my hopes up," I ribbed her.

"Derek Venturi, you are such an _ass_," she growled at me, glaring once again. "And I think aliens have replaced the real you with a copy that actually pays attention to things other than sports statistics and girls' chests."

"Nope," I beamed as I reached into the bag and opening one of the boxes. "I just hide my other interests _very well. Girls with big racks like a man of mystery."_

_She continued to glare at me. "Cookie?" I offered._

_Her face broke, and for the first time since Saturday, Casey actually laughed._


	10. Monday Midmorning: Casey

**Disclaimer: **Characters are not my intellectual property.

* * *

Derek was being amazingly _nice_, which made this whole situation so surreal. Sure, he had continued to make fun of me and make sexist jokes, but he wasn't serious about them. It was like he new exactly what to say and how to say it to get me to loosen up a little.

I snatched the cookie out of his hand.

"I don't _suppose_ you thought of milk?"

"You doubt my skills, young grasshopper," he said as he reached into the bag and pulled out a carton.

"Remembering the basics is not a _skill_, old cricket."

"Cricket, _really_? I might not share my milk with you, now, since you're so lame."

"Oh, just fork it over." He sighed, like it was the biggest challenge in the world to accommodate me, but he rolled his eyes as he did it.

"Here," he handed it to me. Skim milk. My favorite. It was so weird that he remembered such a minor detail about me. It was something that I had reminded Max about for months, but he never remembered. I began to tear up a little.

"God, Case, it's milk, not a million dollars," Derek muttered.

"Sorry," I whispered throatily and scrubbed my eyes. "It's not the milk it's just… it's just… Max."

Derek shifted uncomfortably next to me. "Do you want to talk about it?" I glanced over and saw his face contorted into a mask of pain. I could tell that talking about it wouldn't make either of us feel better.

"No, it's okay," I told him. I opened the carton and took a swig of it. The cold liquid made me shiver a little.

"You sure? Are you cold? Do you want me to run back to the car and get a jacket?" he asked. I laughed a little.

"Will you stop being so nice, it's freaking me out!"

"I'm not nice, don't you tell anyone I'm nice!"

"Oh, I am _so_ going to tell everyone that the great triple-D is the _nicest_, _sweetest_ guy in the whole world. And then everyone who knows you will put me into an insane asylum," I laughed, but couldn't help shivering again.

Derek scowled at me and hesitantly put an arm around me. "If you get sick, I won't have a date, remember."

I laughed a little, until his remark brought back memories of this morning. I flushed red and bolted upright. I hadn't even noticed that I was leaning into his warmth. I looked down and heard Derek clear his throat uncomfortably.

"How much should I pay you to make the incident this morning disappear?"

"What incident?" I muttered, my cheeks still burning.

"Great. Pass the milk." I looked at the milk in my hand, then back at him. He wanted to share the carton. Sure, I knew that Derek was disgusting and drank out of the carton all the time, but we had never shared it. It would be too personal, too much like kissing him.

He must have noticed me panicking, because he told me never mind and bit into his cookie. I passed him the milk carton. No big deal. Siblings were allowed to share drinks. I did it with Lizzy and Marty all the time. Once, when I was really thirsty, I stole some soda from Edwin, but never Derek. It was too weird.

He took a big gulp and passed it back to me. I took a sip, trying out the sensation. I didn't feel sick. I didn't feel uncomfortable. It was just milk. I leaned back into Derek.

"If you just gave me herpes, I might kill you," I told him.

"Please, if you got herpes, it was from Max," he retorted.

I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. I broke down and started sobbing again at the thought of kissing Max. Derek obviously panicked.

"Casey, I'm so sorry," he said, dropping his half-eaten cookie to the ground. "I didn't mean to bring him up, it just sort of slipped out." I shoved my cookie in my mouth and gulped some more milk, trying to get a hold on myself. It worked, but not very well.

"It's not your fault, Derek. I go to school with him, I'm going to have to get used to the thought of him."

"He doesn't have to go to the school for long," Derek joked. At least, I think he was joking. He sounded a little serious. I couldn't think of a response. It was like my brain was malfunctioning because of an overload of emotion.

"Casey…" Derek whispered, like I was too fragile to have him speak loudly. "What happened?" I took a breath and thought about telling him the story I had told Em. The story about Max and I needing to go our separate ways because we realized that we wanted different things out of life and out of our relationship. It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth. But, I wanted to tell Derek. I needed to tell someone why I was hurting so badly, even if it would hurt like hell to repeat the story.

"Friday, after our date," I started, hearing my voice wobble, "Max and I were in his car and we were making out." I felt Derek shift uncomfortably, but I barreled on, knowing that if I stopped, I might not start again. "He wanted to-" I paused wondering how to phrase this delicately. "He wanted to go further than I wanted to go. So I stopped, and I told him that I didn't want to… do what he wanted to do. I told him that I didn't feel emotionally ready for it." I swallowed hard a couple of times, but it didn't get rid of the lump in my throat. "It wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation." Derek tensed and I felt tears start to well up in my eyes, ready to stream down my face. "This time, he told me to cut the crap. That it was really selfish of me to only take my emotions into account. He-he said that I was over-dramatizing the situation. That it was just sex, and people our age do it all the time. I told him no, I really didn't want to." I paused, wiping tears from my face, but it was pretty useless.

"Casey, did he-" Derek paused, clearly afraid of my answer to his unspoken question. "Did he rape you?"

"No," I told him honestly. "He drove me home, and we didn't really talk until we got there. Then he told me that he didn't appreciate me being such a tease. I told him that it wasn't my intention to tease, that I loved him. He told me that maybe we just wanted different things from the relationship and that it might be time for us to end it. I told him that I didn't want to, that I really did love him and enjoy being with him. He told me that he didn't think it was going to work out and that he just guessed he was a little more mature than I was. I got a little angry and told him fine, if that's what he wanted, that would be just fine with me. And I got out of the car and went to my room. I was really more angry than sad at that moment, so I was just lying on my bed fuming at him. And then he texted me." My voice broke. I didn't want to tell Derek what happened next, because I was sure that it was just typical Casey overreacting to nothing. Derek nudged me a little, telling me to go on.

"He told me that he was sorry he hadn't realized sooner that our interests were so separate and that he wished I had realized I wasn't ready for a mature-grown up relationship _before _I agreed to go out with him."

I put my head in my hands as I sobbed, relieved to have my story told. It felt nice to just let Derek comfort me. When I finally got the courage to look at his face, to gauge his reaction to my story, there was only one emotion: rage.


	11. Monday Afternoon: Derek

**Disclaimer:** Don't own, not making money off of it.

* * *

It's really strange to have your entire vision go red. Not, like, everything has a pink wash on it, but to have your blood pound so hard that all you can see is red, and all you can think of doing is finding something to take your anger out on, some wall or face to smash in until your knuckles are raw and the anger goes away. But I couldn't do that. I could still feel Casey against me and I knew that if I let my temper run wild, one or both of us would end up getting hurt.

"It's pretty dumb, huh?" she sniffled, trying to quit crying. "To get so upset over something so small. I mean, he just didn't want to date me anymore, and I should just move on, right?"

My rage was amplified.

"Casey, you're an idiot," popped out of my mouth before I could think. Not that I could even begin to think about my mouth when all of my energy was being channeled into not finding Max and pulverizing him. Literally beating him into a bloody pulp. It took a moment for me to notice that Casey was gaping at me, tears flowing down her face even harder than before. "Case-"

"God, Derek! I can't believe I thought you could be nice for two and a half seconds. I just bared my soul to you, and this is how you react. You call me an idiot for being upset? You-you-you complete and utter prick." She tried to get off the bench, but I held her down with my arm around her waist..

"Casey, will you shut up for a minute! Quit jumping to conclusions and let me explain!" I glared at her. She glared right back at me, but remained silent. This probably had more to do with me pinning her down than actually wanting to hear what I had to say.

"Thank you. I didn't mean that you were an idiot for being upset. I think you're an idiot for thinking that you're dumb. Because, and here's a real shocker, you're not. I don't think you've ever been dumb in your entire life. Except, possibly, for dating Max. He's a sleeze. He's a- a-. I'm so furious, I can't even _think_ of a word for how disgusting and low he is. Casey, what he did to you, what he said, is probably the scummiest, dirtiest, meanest thing I've heard. He doesn't realize that he's _nothing_ compared to you, and he was trying to bring you down beneath him. There is absolutely no reason for you to think that you are a waste of time to anyone, Casey, not _anyone_." I grabbed her chin and looked her straight in the eyes. "You are amazing, and strong, and wonderful. Don't you ever let anyone take that away from you. Do you understand?" She was still crying, but at least she wasn't angry anymore, at least, not at me.

"I don't think dating Max was dumb," she retorted, probably just disagreeing with me out of habit. "We had a lot of fun. I liked being with me. He was really good to me."

"Casey, because of him, you let go of a big part of yourself that you weren't really ready to let go of. A lot of your friends could see it. You didn't hang out with Emily as much, because you were too busy with Max. You quit reading and writing, and you would have quit dancing, too, except you got to do that while you were cheerleading. Your grades even started to slip a little, because you were too busy most nights to put the same amount of effort into your homework. It starts out slow, but if you hadn't stood up to him, you probably would have lost a lot more of yourself." Casey stared back at me, but she wasn't looking at me. She was thinking hard. I let go of her chin.

"I-" she trailed off as she was trying to argue against me. "I didn't quit hanging out with Emily."

"No, Casey, but you probably would have. Every part of your life was beginning to get Max-centric. Maybe you should ask Em about it." She looked down, guiltily. I think she was starting to realize that I was right. It was a minute before she spoke again.

"Derek, next time you decide to be deep and insightful, please warn me beforehand. My brain might explode next time." I chuckled and smirked at her. '_Typical Casey.'_

We sat in silence for a while, eating our cookies and sharing our milk, until Casey's phone rang. She looked at the screen and groaned. I glanced over and saw a picture of Nora on the screen.

"You gonna answer that?"

"Fiiiiiine," she said, putting her phone to her ear. I couldn't help but laugh at the conversation.

"Hi, Mom. Yes, I do know how much trouble I'm in. No, I'm not trying to be a smart alec. … No. No! Mom. Mom. MOM! Will you _listen_ for a minute? I'm sorry that the Davis' called you, but I really had nothing to do with that part of it. I couldn't handle the stress, so I took a personal day. … I'm at the park on fourteenth street. … No, Mom, I'm not. I'm with Derek. … _Yes, Mom_, Derek Venturi. … Yes, George's son. … No, I've not had a lobotomy in the past six hours. … Yes, he took a personal day, too. … I don't know why they didn't call you. He's probably blackmailing someone in the attendance office." Casey sighed heavily. "It was a joke, Mom. … Mom, calm down. I asked _him_ to cut class. Yes, really. … No, I don't have a fever. I needed a ride, Mom." There was a long pause, during which I could hear Nora make various sounds of disbelief. "Okay, Mom." Casey lowered the phone and looked at me. "She wants to talk to you." I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear.

"Yo."

"Derek Venturi! Did you give my daughter drugs?"

"No, Nora." I figured shot answers would be best in this situation.

"Is she alright? No head trauma?" I laughed a little and I swear I heard Nora growl.

"No, Nora. She's fine. She just didn't want to deal with all the drama surrounding the break-up."

"Well, whatever the case maybe, I want the two of you to come home right away," Nora told me.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. I think Casey needs to get away from everything for a little while before she goes home."

"Derek! That's ludicrous." I got off the bench and walked away from Casey as Nora was talking. She tried to follow, but I glared at her and she actually sat back down. "Bring her home, now. I want to talk to her."

I figured I was far enough away that Casey wouldn't hear me, but I turned away from her, just to be sure. "Nora, please just trust me. Casey's not herself right now. I'm not going to tell you what happened, that's not my place. But, just believe me when I say that Casey doesn't need to be smothered right now. I know that's what you want to do. You want to me to take her home so that the two of you can sit down on the couch and watch girly movies and eat ice-cream and talk about it, but I don't think Casey needs to talk about it again. It's too new. Just give her a little while to try to deal with it on her own."

Nora spluttered on the phone, but it didn't sound angry. It sounded shocked.

"Derek…" she trailed off, but her voice was much softer, and she wasn't using my last name, so I figured I was out of the danger zone, for now.

"I promise we won't do anything delinquent." Nora chuckled a little.

"There is no guarantee of that with you, Derek," she said, but she sounded amused. "Just, be careful, okay? And Derek… Thank you. Thank you for keeping from going into full Mom mode. I think you're right about giving Casey space. I forget sometimes that she's a young woman, not a little girl." I smiled.

"You're welcome, Nora. We will be. Will you just call the school and excuse our absences?"

"_Ours_, huh? So, you're not blackmailing someone in the attendance office?'

"Nah, bribery is much more effective."

Nora laughed. "Tell Casey I love her. I love you, too, Derek."

"Love you, Nora." She hung up.

I walked back to the bench and Casey was glaring up at me, as usual.

"How much trouble am I in _now_?" she demanded.

"None," I told her smugly, handing back her phone. "And, Nora is going to excuse your absence and we have the day all to ourselves. _And_, I'm supposed to tell you she loves you. So, what do you want to do?"

Casey looked astonished for a moment, but her face quickly morphed into a devilish grin. I went a little weak in the knees.

"We could go… prom shopping," she suggested.

I moaned at the thought of walking around all day, shopping. "Are you trying to _kill_ me? Prom shopping doesn't even involve girls trying on skimpy bathing suits!"

"Oh, so you would be willing to go if I agreed to try on skimpy clothes? You perv!" I probably should've come up with a witty retort faster, but I was distracted by the thought of Casey trying on skimpy clothing.

It took a minute before I could eek out a "No, way, Case," which is admittedly not my best comeback.

"Please, Derek? I need a corsage and shoes that match my dress and maybe we could find some of those really pretty gloves that go up to the elbow!"

I was really tempted to point out that she didn't need any of those things, she only wanted them, but seeing the way her face lit up at the thought of everything being just perfect made me crack.

"Fine," I muttered, looking upward. She squealed and threw her arms around my neck. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her waist. She looked up at me with those big, blue eyes so full of gratitude and, now, happiness. All I could think about was the fact that her face was inches from mine. A slight tilt of the head and I could be kissing her, again.

I let go of her, instead and reached into my pocket for the keys to the car. She walked over to a trash bin and threw away the remains of our milk and cookies. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she looked a little wistful.

'_You're in so much trouble, Venturi.'_


	12. Monday Evening: Casey

On the drive to the mall, I couldn't stop thinking about the hugs with Derek, which was a nice distraction from Max. Not a lot about today made sense, but they took the cake. All of our contact before today had been fueled by frustration. I'd slap him upside the head for being such a cad, or we'd wrestle over the remote. But the hugs had been… sweet. And so had cuddling with him. I'd never noticed before how warm Derek is. It's like he's a personal space heater with strong arms. Something had been niggling at the back of my mind. Why did I care so much about Derek having strong, warm arms? Why did I care that when he looked down at me, it was a look filled with longing and sadness? Why did I care that he let go of me first?

I was forced out of my pensiveness by Derek parking the car. I looked up, startled, to find that we were at the mall already. We got out of the car, but Derek hesitated as he locked the doors.

"Are you sure you don't want to do something else?" he asked me hopefully.

I shot him a look. "Yes, I'm sure. And you agreed to this, remember?" I grabbed him hand and marched him to the entrance. All the way there he was muttering something about "blue puppies." I wasn't really paying attention, though. I was busy mapping out our course through the mall. Our first stop was my favorite shoe store. It was this little boutique that has the best shoes and, while they are a little on the expensive side, they were surprisingly comfortable and durable. I immediately began to search for a pair that would go with my dress. I heard an outraged noise and turned around to see Derek holding shoe by one strap, looking at it like it might jump up and bite him.

"Casey, this thing costs $200!" he told me.

"Derek, that's a pretty normal price for nice shoes."

"But… it's a _shoe_," he said slowly, like I was a child.

"It's a four-inch sling back stiletto," I explained, taking the shoe from him. "And it's a Jimmy Choo knockoff. If it was a real Jimmy Choo, it'd be about a $1000." His eyes bugged out of his skull.

"You would spend $1000 on a _shoe_?" he hissed.

"Not me, I don't have that kind of money. But in theory, yeah, I guess." He stared at me again. "It's like guys buying a video game for 50 bucks, then getting tired of it after a month. I don't really buy shoes that often, and when I do, they're usually much cheaper. But, this is _prom_."

He glared at me. "Do not compare something that's fun to freaking _shoes_." I laughed.

"Shoes are fun for me. They make me feel pretty." He sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly giving up this battle.

"Fine, whatever. Just don't take forever."

It took forever to find everything I was looking for, but it was a surprisingly fun trip, once Derek got bored. His method of amusing himself was to find the cheapest thing in a store and demand that I buy that, no matter how ugly it was. Sometimes, he wouldn't quit pestering me until I put it on, or he did, which made me laugh until my sides hurt. No matter how serious you are about finding a pair of black satin elbow-length gloves a few days before prom, it's hilarious to see someone flounce around a store in a bright orange and turquoise feathered hat.

I even decided to give Derek a little break in the middle of the shopping and we went into the guitar shop. Derek made a beeline for a guitar on the wall. It was rose-colored acoustic with a dark red insert. My extent of guitar knowledge ended there. The sign said something about a Gibson Rosewood, but I wasn't paying too much attention. He waited next to it like a puppy until one of the store associates came over. The associate smiled at Derek with comfotable familiarity.

"Back again, huh, kid?" the guy asked, taking down the guitar and handing it to Derek.

"You know me. I can't resist this baby," Derek told him, stroking the guitar. The guy smiled at him and walked away to help another customer. Derek sat down on one of the stools and lightly strummed the guitar. His eyes closed in a look of pure ecstasy and longing. His fingers flew over the frets in a melody that matched his expression. His lips moved slightly, as if her were whispering to himself.

I loved this side of Derek. It's the side that he doesn't normally show anyone, except maybe Marty. The side that's not a tough smart-ass. The side that doesn't care about the rest of the world because Derek is truly content. This face was so much more vulnerable than the face he shows the world because all of his desire and happiness and sadness show on his face. I couldn't help but stare. Finally, after a few long minutes of playing the guitar, Derek opened his eyes. He seemed refreshed, but a little sadder. He handed the guitar back to the associate and we left. Derek didn't even look back at the guitar.

* * *

When I opened the door to the laundry room, I was immediately assaulted by a munchkin in a sling. She was still in her wings and dress from yesterday, but now the dress had significantly more food on it.

"Casey!" Marty yelled, attaching herself to the lower half of my body one armed. "Nora said you were in big, big trouble and that Smerek was gonna die, but then she talked to Smerek and everything is all right again. What's in the bag?" I laughed.

"Princess stuff for this weekend."

"Really?" she exclaimed as her eyes grew wide. "Can I see? I'm your fairy godmother, so I need to approve on these kinds of things." I heard Derek laughing behind me. Marty saw him and threw herself at him instead of me. He picked her up so that he could kiss her cheek.

"You almost _died_ today. Nora told me," she confided to him in a six-year-old's version of a whisper.

"Smarty, I didn't almost die. Nora just got really angry and thought about making me die. But I'm Smerek, so I never stay in trouble."

"Nuh-uh! You get in trouble lots of times. You're just good at talking people out of stuff. Or into stuff. Like the time you made Edwin eat that candy that fell behind the dryer at his birthday, and then he threw up all over-"

"Marty!" Edwin yelled, aware that she was speaking of him. "We had an _agreement_. If you tell _anyone_ that story, I get the teddy bear." He started toward the stairs.

"No," Marty shrieked, wriggling out of Derek's arms and running up the stairs. "He's _mine_, Edwin! Don't you _touch_ him." Derek and I shared a look of mutual exasperation.

"Edwin, leave your sister's toys alone, or there's no dessert for you!" Mom called from the kitchen.

"But Nora!" Edwin whined from upstairs. The sounds of Edwin and mart fighting continues, but at a lower decibel level.

Glancing over at us, Mom smiled. "Derek, would you go break that up? Without hurting Edwin!" she shouted as an afterthought as Derek stalked up the stairs with an evil look on his face.

"So, how was your day, Case?" Mom asked me innocently. I sighed, mentally preparing myself for the long lecture ahead of me.

"It was surprisingly fun, Mom."

"And you spent it with Derek?" she deadpanned.

I laughed. "Yes, Mom. I spent the whole day with Derek. After the park, we went to the mall and I picked up a few things for the prom that I should've gotten this weekend, but I was a little distracted."

"Yeah, I know," Mom frowned at me sympathetically. I hate that about break-ups. Everyone is all sympathetic, even if they don't know anything about it. "Listen, Case. I know you needed a day away from it all. Why that needed to involve Derek, God only knows, but I understand. Just, please, don't make this a habitual thing. Your grades have been… less than stellar lately, and I don't think a bunch of absences at the end of your senior year is going to help anything."

I frowned. Even Mom noticed my grades? I guess that Paul would call her if he noticed anything weird with me at school. At least, I hoped it was Paul. He would notice if my grades were off by a fraction. I might die of shame if I had slipped so far that one of my teachers called Mom.

"I understand," I told her. "This was definitely a once in my senior year occurrence. It was just… I guess Em's parents told you what happened this morning?"

"They told me that Emily got a week's worth of detention for yelling obscenities at Max. Then they told me that Emily said the he 'totally deserved it' because of the things that he said to you. But she didn't say what exactly he said to you…" she carefully led into the non-question. I wondered if she would let me get away with not telling her what happened. She was being surprisingly nonchalant about the whole thing, like she wouldn't care if I told her now or not. I knew that she deserved to know what happened, though.

"Basically, Max said that I had a habit of being over-dramatic and that I shouldn't spread my 'over-dramatized' version all around the school because he had a reputation to protect. And this was right after he asked me for his letterman jacket back." I laughed humorlessly. "It does sound like Em and I went a little overboard, in retrospect."

"No, Case," Mom assured me, with an actual upset frown on her face. "It sounds like Max was belittling your feelings in front of everyone, so that he might save face. It _sounds_ like Max doesn't know you very well, if he thinks that you would spread rumors around the school, just to hurt him." Mom's frown deepened, like she wanted to add something else, but she apparently decided against it.

"Yeah, I guess your right," I said, still feeling a little foolish. "I'm gonna go put my stuff in my room, for now. Do you need any help cooking?" I looked hesitantly at the vegetables Mom was chopping. It _looked_ like she was going to make soup, which _might_ not turn into a catastrophe, but it really just depended on the day.

"I _think _I'll be okay. If I shout, though, please come rescue me." I chuckled at Mom and went up the stairs.

Derek was waiting for me by my room.

"Marty and Edwin appear to have sorted everything out."

"Yeah," he said. "House rules dictate that a partially told story may not result in punishment, as the deal was not, technically, broken."

"That sounds like a rule you just made up."

He shrugged and smirked, clearly not going to expound upon the subject. "I think you should tell Nora," he told me, seriously. I shook my head slowly. "Not today. Probably not tomorrow. But you need to tell her. She deserves to know why you're so upset."

I could tell that my eyes were going to water again. When will this day end? I'm not equipped to deal with all this emotion. I opened the door into my room and slowly walked inside. I set my bag and purse down on my desk before I answered.

"I don't want to. It hurts so much to talk about it. And I know it'll hurt her, too. What's the good of sharing pain, when talking about it doesn't make anyone feel good."

Derek leaned against my doorframe and crossed his arms, clenching his fists like there was something he wanted to do with them. "The more you talk about it, the less it will hurt, Case. Just… give it a while and talk to someone else about it. See how it makes you feel."

I glared at him. He smirked at me, then took a big step forward and hugged me quickly, squeezing before let me go. "You'll see. I'm right," he told me.

"In your dreams, Smerek." He laughed and walked down the hall to his room.

Afterwards, I realized that was the third time in one day Derek had hugged me. And, it hadn't felt awkward once. Maybe Mom was right, and I had been lobotomized.


	13. Tuesday Morning: Derek

**Author's note**: If you want to know why my updates are so few and far between, please read the note on my profile. I'm not going to put my spiel in the story itself.

_Disclaimer_: I do not, have not, and will not own anything related to the Disney monster, including, but not limited to, Life With Derek.

* * *

Tuesdays suck.

Monday, even though it was full of drama, and hugging, and me wanting to go to school and kill Max, was better than Tuesday. Tuesday meant I had to sit a few seats away from him and not leap over them and smash his face into a bloody pulp. I was definitely _not_ allowed to make a big deal out of what I knew, or so Casey told me on the drive to school. I grunted noncommittally in response, but I could see where she was coming from. If I killed Max in front of the many, many witnesses in English, I would probably go to jail. _Probably_.

And, on Monday, I didn't have to worry about Marty being in surgery, even if it was practically risk free. Practically is not the same as absolutely, and I hated that.

So, instead of even attempting to pay attention to whatever we were doing in English, I plotted how I was going to bring him down a couple of pegs before the school year ended. That was, after all, my specialty. I figured humiliation would be my best bet. I just needed to find the right dirt on Max, so that I could share it with the school. Emily would be a good place to start looking for information. Or maybe Max's ex-girlfriends. I wondered, briefly, if Kendra would help me out on that front. She doesn't hate my guts or anything, but I have a suspicion that my 'immaturity' was part of the reason that she broke up with me.

As if sensing my intentions, Casey turned around in the middle of class. It's like the months of living together have equipped her with a special "Derek's Up to Something" radar. She glared at me, and mouthed the word "NO." I shrugged and rolled my eyes, trying to indicate that I had no idea what she meant. Even though we were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture, Casey didn't turn toward the front. Instead, she glared me down, eyes like pools of ice. She firmly shook her head at me. I sighed and nodded, trying to keep her off of my back. She finally turned around and paid attention to the lecture.

After class, she caught up with me, grabbing my arm right outside of the door.

"Derek, you are, under no circumstances, to do whatever it is you plan on doing," she hissed at me.

"Casey, Casey, Casey," I shook my head sadly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I would never _plan_ on doing anything. It just happens."

Casey continued to glare at me. "No, Derek. If anything happens to Max, _I'll_ know it was you. The whole school will know it was you, and think _I _asked you to do it."

_Damn_. She had a point. I smirked in a noncommittal sort of way to hide my dissappointment. "Whatever, Case."

I walked away from her, to meet up with Sam in front of his locker.

"What's up, D? Marty okay?"

"Yeah, as far as I know. Nora said she would call as soon as Marty gets out of surgery. I just _hate_ waiting, ya know?"

"Yeah, man. So, what's up with Case?" It still irked me sometimes that Sam cares about Casey so much, but I try not to let it show anymore. I'm kind of paranoid that one day he'll start asking the wrong questions about Casey and "she's my step-sister, she reflects upon me" or "she's just not good enough for you" is going to wear thin. But, Sam is infinitely better than Max.

"This weekend was, uh, crazy. For all of us."

"Isn't that pretty _normal_ for you house?" he asked, opening his locker and digging for a folder.

I smirked at him, leaning on the row of lockers. "Usually, the chaos is a bit more controlled. Speaking of Casey freaking out, though, do you think that we should prank the hell out of Max, now that he's off limits?"

Sam smiled wickedly at me, removing his head from the locker. "That's possibly the best thing I've heard all week."

I laughed. "Slow week, huh? So, what should we do to that bastard? Oh, and there is an 'addendum'," I air-quoted. "Her majesty has decreed that I'm not _allowed_ to do anything to him, because people will think that _she_ asked me to. And you know how she feels about her squeaky clean reputation."

"Dude, she's not _that_ bad," Sam said, punching me on the shoulder lightly. "Okay, maybe she is, but she can play dirty if she wants. Need I remind you of the _Babe Raider_ incident?"

I glared at Sam. The _Babe Raider_ incident is something that we agreed should never be spoken of, on account of its wrongness. And the fact that Casey is a straight up 10, and thinking of the incident invariably leads down very, very wrong paths in my mind that involve that particular outfit.

Sam laughed at me, reaching into his locker again. "I get it, we do the subtle thing."

"Subtle is very good, in this case."

"So, slashing his tires is out, then?" he suggested casually, finally locating the folder.

"I'm thinking something bad should happen to him on, oh, prom night."

"Public humiliation is a very in look this semester."

"You know, Sammy, I think you're on to something. We wouldn't want poor Max to be out of fashion on Saturday."

"Hm, I have some very _fashionable_ ideas, Der," Sam told me as we walked to class. "Have I mentioned that I'm lab partners with Anna Parker?"

"Off topic, much?" I asked, confused at the 180 in Sam's thought train.

"You haven't heard," he asked, obviously feigning surprise. "Max asked her to prom yesterday and she said yes."

"That filthy son of a-"

"Cool it, Venturi," Sam hushed me as we walked in the door. "Anna is counting on me to get her an A in Chem. She wants to be a nurse." Sam was grinning like a madman. "I'm sure that if I asked her a small favor or two, she'd be happy to oblige."

I smiled at Sam. "I like the way you think."

For the blackest Tuesday in the history of the world, today was turning out to be pretty awesome.


	14. Tuesday Afternoon: Casey

_Disclaimer_: I do not, have not, and will not own anything related to the Disney monster, including, but not limited to, Life With Derek.

* * *

I drummed my fingertips on the Prince's roof, after school. I glanced at my watch for the third time in five minutes and considered running and catching the bus. Technically, riding with Derek would be faster than the bus, but only if he wasn't flirting with some random girl or purposely making me wait. I figured that today, at least, he would want to get home fast and make sure Marty was alright, but I was obviously wrong.

Making up my mind on the matter, I turned and walked toward the buses.

I shrieked when a hand grabbed my shoulder, almost jumping out of my skin.

"God, Casey. Can you go a second without overreacting?" Derek asked, removing his hand as I turned.

"Der-ek!" I yelled at him, shaking a little with my surprise. "You scared me half to death. That's not exactly _overreacting_."

"It is when I'm doing to grabbing," he smirked lazily.

"Ew, you pig," I rolled my eyes at him, turning back to the car.

"Oh, c'mon, Case, it was a joke," he grabbed my arm and spun me around, looking a little upset. "Besides, you know you love your big brother."

I pulled a face at him, pretending to vomit. "Every time I think of being genetically related to you, I die a little on the inside."

"That's just because you're jealous of my devilish Venturi good looks."

"I think they may have skipped your generation," I told him, realizing that his hand was still on my arm and I wasn't grossed out by his proximity, which freaked me out. I shrugged off his hand. "Let's just go home."

"Sure thing."

The drive home was conspicuously quiet. Neither Derek nor I felt up to arguing very much. I was thinking about Marty. Derek and I had left for school before she had woken up, but I had kissed her good-bye on my way out. I hoped she wasn't too freaked out about the surgery. At least Mom would be there with her the whole time. But Marty was still probably so scared, being in a hospital all day, and being given anesthesia. And she's so little. And, oh my God, what if something went wrong with the anesthesia, or it didn't work and Marty had to go through the whole thing conscious and-

A warm weight landed on my shoulder and I jumped in my seat. I looked over and Derek was watching me, concern on his face.

"You're freaking yourself out over nothing," he told me. "Absolutely nothing went wrong today, and Marty is fine." His hand squeezed my shoulder gently.

I wished I had his confidence. The thought made me smile. Then gag.

"You will never tell anyone I said this, but there is the possibility that you are not completely wrong," I answered back. Derek removed his hand.

"Please, like I would tell. That would mean revealing that I actually talk to you without being forced by one or more parental units."

"Oh, so it would embarrass you to have people know that you enjoy talking to me?" I asked him, a devilish grin on my face.

"I plead the fifth."

"That only applies in the US."

"Oh, shut up, Casey," he rejoined.

"Light's green, _Der_," I pointed out. The car behind us honked. I snickered at him. Then I giggled. Soon, Derek and I were out and out laughing so hard tears were leaking from our eyes while the car behind us let out another long blast of the horn.

Derek wiped his eyes and drove home.

Soon, we were home. Mom was waiting on the couch, flipping through a magazine for decorating ideas. She looked tired, but she smiled when we walked in the door. Derek dropped his bag. I opened my mouth, but Mom beat me to the chase.

"She's fine," Mom said softly. "She's exhausted, but fine. Her arm is set and cast, but she's feeling a little sick from the anesthesia."

"What does that mean?" Derek demanded, but didn't raise his voice.

"It means that the anesthesia made her nauseous, but that's not a very uncommon reaction. It's nothing serious. She'll sleep it off and be running and screaming again by tomorrow." She smiled.

"Can I check in on her?" Derek asked, a worried wrinkle still on his forehead.

"I would say to not disturb her, but I don't think a herd of elephants would bother her right now. Go ahead."

"Thanks, Nora," he smiled halfheartedly and hugged Mom.

"He must be pretty upset, huh?" Mom asked, watching Derek run up the stairs. I shot her a smile.

"Well, duh, Mom." Mom looked sideways at me, then smiled before yawning hard enough to crack her jaw.

"Go take a nap, you've had a long day, too. I'll go put my stuff away and figure out what to make for dinner." I ordered, ushering her toward the basement door.

"Thank you Casey, but let's just order in. Everyone will be exhausted after today, and you shouldn't have to cook."

I grinned at her. "Lizzy and Edwin could always-"

"No," she cut me off, glaring. "Now, I'm off to bed, and I'd like to still have a kitchen when I wake up."

I kissed her on the cheek and headed upstairs.

Derek was waiting next to my door.

"Is she asleep?" Derek waiting for me was usually bad. I opened my door and set my backpack down.

"C'mere," he motioned toward Marty's room. We went in, and Marty was awake. She wasn't really lucid, but she was awake.

"Casey!" she shouted excitedly, slurring a little. She started bouncing up and down.

"What's up, Smarty?" I asked, going to the bed and sitting next to her.

"I was telling Smerek that since you're _my_ princess, I want you to sign my cast first," she told me, grabbing a marker from under her pillow and handing it to me.

"Are you sure you don't want Derek to sign it first?" I worried that this was insane, drugged child logic and that she would be mad at me later.

"Mmmhmmm," she said, holding out her arm. "Derek said 's okay." She smiled sleepily up at me.

"Thank you," I mouthed at Derek, smiling at him with watery eyes. He smirked back at me.

I took Marty's arm and signed my name in my best, most elegant handwriting. Above it, I drew a stick figure of a little girl with short hair, fairy wings and a crown. I kissed Marty's forehead and she was already back asleep.

I looked up and Derek hastily dropped his hand from his face. I pretended I didn't notice anything.

I left Marty's room and Derek followed.

"Casey," Derek began and I turned to face him. "You don't think she's... brain damaged, do you?"

I glared at Derek. "You are such an ass."

Derek grinned and swept me into a hug.

"It's a secret, but you're an alright big sister," he whispered directly into my ear. Shivers from the weirdness of the situation ran down my spine, but I hugged him back anyways.

"I'd tell you that you're an alright big brother, but you're crap when it comes to being a brother to me," I retorted to his shoulder, into which my face was smashed. I felt him vibrate with laughter before he released me.

"Touché, Case," he smirked, walking to his room and shutting the door. I walked to my room and shut my door softly.


End file.
